


Changes

by Too_Many_Seeds



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Kind of fluffy, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Many_Seeds/pseuds/Too_Many_Seeds
Summary: John Seed finds his wife trying to throw out all of her clothes. He shows her that her pregnancy only makes her more desirable than ever.





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: pregnant sex, oral sex, pregnancy mentions in general.

When John Seed walked through the doors to his ranch, the last thing he expected to see was his wife emptying the contents of her wardrobe into the fireplace. 

He froze in the entryway, standing stock still as he heard her curse softly and prod at the pile of burning clothes with the poker stick in her hand. 

“Get the fuck in,” she hissed, and for an alarming moment, John thought she was talking to  _ him.  _ “There you go, you piece of shit.” 

“What on earth are you doing?” John interrupted, shaking his head to snap himself out of his shock and stepping forward; sidestepping the table to get a better view. 

She jolted as she realised he was there, and whipped her head around to watch him approach; ears reddening in some sort of childish sheepishness as she was caught redhanded. She had what appeared to be a dish cloth tied around her face and nose to protect herself from the smoke. 

“I...didn’t think you’d be home until later,” Rook admitted softly, turning to the fireplace and idly prodding a pile of simmering ashes underneath her burning trove. 

“Evidently,” John replied, calmly discarding his coat and draping it over the nearby chair. He examined the few pieces of clothing in the flames - thankfully, it seemed he’d arrived before she’d managed to take out _all_ of her cashmere, at least - and he cleared his throat with a smile. “Now, would you care to tell me why you’re suddenly unhappy with your entire wardrobe?” 

Even underneath her strange dish-cloth mask, he could tell she was grimacing. She mumbled something in reply, but he couldn’t hear it. 

“I’m sorry?” He asked, coaxing her to speak louder with an expectant smile. 

“...None of it _fits_ ,” Rook muttered, narrowing her eyes angrily at the large pile of clothing yet to meet the flames. 

John didn’t move for a moment, watching her silently and blinking slowly. He sighed and raised a hand to the bridge of his nose. 

“Of course it doesn’t fit,” he replied calmly, rubbing at his brow with pinching fingers. “I believe that’s a common side-effect of pregnancy, dear.” 

Rook sniffed. 

“Yeah, well it’s stupid,” she said, and gave a vigorous prod with her poker stick at the embers. 

John stepped forward, leaning down to gingerly pry the dangerous weapon out of her hands before she took someone’s eye out. He hung it back up by the side of the fireplace while she got to her feet with a huff, as though he’d taken her fun from her. 

He shook his head and quickly gathered a nearby bowl of water he assumed his Deputy had prepared in case of emergency. He doused the thankfully still-young flames, coughing and turning his head to avoid any smoke. The doors were still wide open from his return; sending a chilled breeze through the house and it was thankfully adequate ventilation. 

His wife had the familiar look of a scheming Deputy; eyeing the remaining mountain of clothes and no doubt plotting other destructive ways to do away with her entire wardrobe. 

“Before you get any ideas,” John piped up, “need I remind you how difficult it is to currently source decent clothing in this county? Even if you want to get rid of some items, you ought to at least donate them.” He sighed, glancing at the pile. “Don’t just burn them.” 

Her expression was almost peevish. 

“It’s cathartic,” she said. 

“It’s a  _ waste _ ,” he corrected her, examining the clothing. He gave a ‘tsk’ and leaned down, picking up a slinky piece of lingerie. “Like this. I seem to recall a rather _eventful_ evening with this.” 

She eyed the thing and for a moment, he saw the flicker of longing in her eyes. Then it vanished and she glanced down at her stomach. 

“I won’t fit in that anymore,” Rook muttered, crossing her arms. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course you would,” he said, thumbing at the parted sides of the lace piece. “You’d look as radiant as ever.” 

She paused, staring at the piece in his hands and he could see the consideration on her face. 

“I just...Want to wear something _pretty_ again,” she mumbled, fiddling at the sleeve of her dress - a long and comfortable piece designed for maternity. “Like I used to wear.” 

John stepped closer to her, cupping the side of her face with his free hand and holding the lingerie up in the other. 

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on,” he admitted to her in a murmur, deftly untying her dish-cloth mask and brushing his lips against hers softly. “You could wear a hessian bag and I’d still find it difficult to keep my hands off you.”

She hummed into his next kiss, leaning into him and cupping a hand around his neck. She pulled away for a brief moment to glance down at the lingerie still in his grasp. 

“Thank you,” she said, and then reached out to take the clothing with tentative fingers; meeting his eyes with something between mischief and shyness. “But I also want to do this for  _ me.”  _

An hour later, John Seed answered her call, and, for the second time that day, was brought to a standstill by his wife. 

She was kneeling on the mattress, bare and flushed from her bath. The babydoll gave him an almost sinful glimpse of her cleavage; a tied ribbon underneath her breasts to complete the pretty picture she painted. The windows of the piece parted for her stomach, the lace framing her figure in a temptation reminiscent of a pin-up. 

Her fingers played with the edges of the lace nervously. 

“It sort of fits,” Rook admitted, squirming in place and poking at one of her plump breasts behind the lace. “I don’t really like how it sits though; the carry-on makes it a bit different to how I used to wear this.” 

“I really don’t care,” John found himself saying immediately, and he was already hurriedly tearing at his belt; rushing to undress himself in record time. “You still look perfect and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.” 

She raised an eyebrow, the image of nerves vanishing for an instant as she realised how much he was affected by the sight of her. The flash of her familiar Cheshire teeth made him swallow a groan, and she leaned back on the bed; hands supporting her as she pushed her chest slightly forward, an offering and tease at once. 

“Well maybe you should  _ stop  _ trying,” Rook suggested, beckoning him closer with an outstretched hand, and who was he to refuse such an offer? 

He fell into her touch, gripping her hips and shifting her higher up against the mattress; pinning her down as gently as he could while his hands roamed her sides. She was warm and soft and absolutely perfect, and he couldn’t get enough of her. 

John placed open mouthed kisses down to her navel, making her squirm impatiently as his beard scratched against the sides of her breasts; the skin tender from growth. He would never leave her bereft for long, of course, and gave a hum as he caught one of her nipples in his mouth; teasing her through the lace. 

Her back arched, pressing herself up further towards him in an offering and plea. His fingers found their place at her opposite breast; pinching tight enough against her nub to make her gasp and twist underneath him. 

“Oh, shit,” she breathed, hands curling into his hair. 

“You’ve gotten more sensitive, haven’t you?” He murmured, pressing a parting kiss in between the valley of her breasts before he trailed down, hands bracing on either thigh as he coaxed her legs apart. “Fuck, but you  _ are  _ stunning, aren’t you?” 

Rook spread her legs wide for him, letting him slot between them and jolted at the first kiss to her inner thigh. The skin was sensitive; his beard scratching in a way that was not unpleasant. His fingers reached forward, tugging the line of her underwear down to catch a glimpse of his prize. 

“There we are,” he hummed, glancing up to meet her eyes with a flicker of mischief. “Look at how wet you are for me, darling.” 

She inhaled sharply as one of his fingers dove between her lips, gathering the evidence of her arousal and bringing it to his mouth. Rook couldn’t tear her eyes away as he tasted her on his hand, and he chuckled at the sight of the furious blush spreading across her cheeks. 

“Forgive my _greed_ , my dear,” John murmured, before delving back down to get a proper taste of her. 

She arched with a gasp as he teased her; tongue flickering around the base of her clit in slow but firm circles; the feeling of his beard coarse and rough against her. One of his fingers slid inside her, and she groaned; it wasn’t enough and her husband knew it. 

“Johnny, please,” Rook sighed, hand tugging at his hair. He groaned at the pull, relenting and sliding another finger inside her. The stretch made her gasp, eyes falling shut to savour the feeling. 

There had been a period of time during the first trimester where John had been terrified to touch her; frightened that something would happen were he to indulge in their desires. But a very frustrated and hormonal wife was not someone who would be scorned, and she had eventually coaxed him into their bed again. Together they had found that John Seed was ravenous around his pregnant Deputy and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

“You’re  _ perfect _ ,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers from her and rising to swallow her protesting groan with a kiss. His hands pulled at her hips, twisting them until they were on their sides; her back pressed firmly to him as he lined himself at her entrance. John’s lips trailed down the side of her neck, whispering sweet nothings and praises into her ear as he pushed inside her. 

Her head tilted back with a gasp; resting against him as she felt him fill her. There was perhaps something guiltily regressive with how she relished in the feeling of his cock inside her, how it anchored her and the warmth of him was enough to make her melt and sink into his touch. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” she muttered, one hand reaching back to claw at his hip; a primal part of her wanting him closer and deeper. 

His fingers tightened on her waist as he began to move; rocking into her slowly. The pull of him made her instinctively clench down, wanting to keep him inside her but also loving the brush of him against the sensitive sides of her walls. 

He found a rhythm quickly; his wife’s body familiar to him, his fingers able to map out the places to tease and stroke to make her unravel. She leaned into him; matching his thrusts and trying to meet his pace in turn, giving him such sweet little gasps and whines. 

“Look at you,” John hissed into her ear, fingers tight enough to leave a mark on her hip as he pulled her back and tightly against him; snapping his hips into her in a sudden shallow but fast pace. His cock twitched at the startled gasps she gave, making him groan and bury his head into the crook of her neck. “You make such pretty sounds for me, darling. Are you going to come for me?” 

His pace was rougher than usual, brushing the windows of the flimsy babydoll to the side to grip her bare skin; feel her warmth against him; irresistible as she always was. Rook pushed back into his thrusts, building into a whine as she felt herself tightening with every rock into her. 

“Yeah,” she answered him in a rush of a breath, dangerously close to panting. “Yeah, I want to come; want you to make me come, Johnny,  _ please. _ ” 

He groaned into her ear, pressing kisses to the side of her neck and nipping gently with a hint of teeth to make her squirm. 

“There’s my good girl,” John said, hand roaming across the lace of her babydoll. She moaned as his fingers briefly tugged at her nipple again, sensitive enough to make her twist in his grasp; unsure if she wanted to pull away or push forward into the touch. “I want you to come on my cock; I want you to show me how fucking _perfect_ you are.” 

He was faster now, and it was harder for her to focus on matching him; each thrust making her head a little foggier and the ache between her thighs burn just a little harder. His wandering hand fell to her leg, pulling her back slightly to help push him deeper. 

She couldn’t help her surprised squeal as his fingers circled her clit, trailing the path his tongue had taken earlier and teasing her onto the brink as his touch felt like a line of fire. His pace was faltering; losing rhythm and control as he approached his own end, and his hand moved quickly against her nub, loathe to see his wife bereft in their own bed. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, coaxing her to turn her head so he could catch her lips in a hungry kiss. “Come for me, darling.” 

Her legs twitched against him as she did exactly that; letting out a strangled gasp as she unravelled around him. The clenching of her walls pushed him over and he buried himself deep with a groan as she milked his release with her aftershocks. Rook’s legs were twitching and she had to bat his hand away from her clit; too sensitive to handle more touch even while the last waves of her release still rolled through her. 

They lay together in a golden sort of haze for a few minutes; Rook enjoying his warmth and the safety that rolled over her as she curled back into his chest. His arm was tight and almost possessive around her midsection; holding her to him and brushing against the bulge of her abdomen. 

Eventually, she shifted, moving away to tug at the edges of her babydoll; pulling it over her head and tossing it on the ground. Usually, John might have complained about causing a mess, but the haze of weariness made him forgive it. 

“Problem?” He asked tiredly, holding his arm open again for her to crawl back into his embrace. 

“Lace is itchy,” Rook explained simply, mumbling the words against his chest. “But it was nice to wear something pretty again.” 

He hummed and rested his chin on the top of her head; content with his wife satisfied and safe in his arms. 

“I’m glad,” he murmured. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
